


Follow You Home

by HerHighnessThePrincess



Category: Lego Ninjago
Genre: Gen, also heads up this is gonna have graphic description of grieving and all that angst stuff, also kai is in a really negative mental state for most of it so look out for that, also me hitting kai with the ouch stick, he does get better though, there are other people but they arent as prominent, this is all about that found family babe, this is angst with a happy ending
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-28
Updated: 2020-07-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:20:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25565773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HerHighnessThePrincess/pseuds/HerHighnessThePrincess
Summary: Five years after Kai's death, he remains at his own gravestone. Until he receives a certain visitor who reminds him of the past...
Relationships: Cole & Lloyd Garmadon & Kai & Nya & Jay Walker & Zane, Kai & Nya (Ninjago), Lloyd Garmadon & Kai, Lloyd Garmadon & Nya
Comments: 11
Kudos: 58





	Follow You Home

**Author's Note:**

> I'm a sucker for angst with a happy ending. So here's this. This will be a six chapter story, but it's not gonna be exactly short. I have an inability to write short things.
> 
> Also, if you're in a forum where you can comment, please guess who the narrator is before the end of the first section (it becomes really obvious at a certain point). I wanna see how obvious I am.
> 
> Also look up the meanings of the flowers. Please. I did so much research.
> 
> Apologies if the pronouns in this chapter are confusing. Couldn't use names, so I was stuck with pronouns.
> 
> Last but not least, trigger warnings! This isn't exactly a PG story, so please read them.
> 
> If you can't read any specific chapter due to the warnings, but still want to know what happened, there will be a basic summary of the chapter at the end of each one. I'll also be willing to answer any questions you have in the comments, or if you want to ask me directly my ask box is open on my tumblr (my username is the same on all sites) and you can ask me appropriate questions.
> 
> General warnings for this fic: Major character death (they get better though), graphic descriptions of dying and a dead body, grief & mourning, cults, murder, swearing (zero slurs though), trauma, nightmares, insomnia, and emotional issues.
> 
> Specific warnings for this chapter: Major character death, grief & mourning.
> 
> With no further ado, here is the fic! Constructive criticism is encouraged!

He had been here for a very long time. Crouched in the dark, with his hands on whatever counted as the ground in this place. Legs tucked underneath him. Eyes focused on the nothingness.

There was nothing in the place where he was. It was so dark, all the time, to the point where he couldn’t see his body even when he knew he was staring at a part of himself. It was also cold, and quiet. His limbs frozen from the icy air (he supposed that there was air here, otherwise he would be dead) and no sound escaped his lips.

When he had first gotten here, he had tried to scream and beg for help. He had tried until his throat felt like knives were being dragged across it, but no noise escaped his lips. There was no noise, no sight, no smell, no anything. Just the cold and the quiet and the dark.

He didn’t remember anything aside from this place. It all felt so wrong and impossible, but as far as he could tell, he was born here. He had lived here in whatever version of life this was, and he would probably die here. If he could.

He knew no one was coming for him. He had seen others, but they hadn’t seen him. They could move and talk and see things apparently, but not him. They hadn’t helped him.

He felt a connection to all of them, though. A connection that made him feel… warm. He couldn’t explain it, but he felt warm around them. The freezing cold retreated for a while, and he was able to feel peace when they were near.

It didn’t last. They always left. But he felt good as long as they stayed.

He could see one of them right now. The figure started as a small moving dot on the horizon, but it provided a stark contrast against the darkness, so he was able to focus on it immediately. As it got closer, he was able to discern some features about it.

And then the person got close enough for him to see.

It was a young man with dark skin and darker hair, and soft brown eyes ringed with shadows. He wore a miserable expression on his face, and although he was dressed plainly, he held some flowers in his right hand.

The man was staring directly at him, but he could tell that he wasn’t seeing him. He rubbed a hand over his face and sighed.

“Hey, buddy,” he said, voice soft and deep. “Brought you some flowers. Daffodils and asphodels, your favorites.”

He kneeled down and placed the flowers right in front of him. He felt even warmer now that the man was closer, so it was a relief when the man sat down properly, staring him straight in the eyes. The man still didn’t see him, however.

“Never really took you for a flower person,” he said. “I was really surprised when you told me you had favorites. No offense, but they clash horribly together. And the flower lady always gives me odd looks when I order them. Maybe you were playing a prank on me and they mean some kind of horrible insult. I wouldn’t put it past you.”

The man went silent for a long while. He could see tears pricking in the corners of his eyes, and the man wiped away a few hastily. It made him feel better again.

“I’m never gonna get used to this,” the man mumbled, voice so quiet that he almost had to lean forward to listen. “It’s just weird. And sad and awful, of course, but it’s so strange to me. To think that you’re going to be here for the rest of time, and not with us in the sunlight where you belong.”

Something in him balked at that. He didn’t  _ want _ to spend the rest of time here. He didn’t know where else he would go, but it was cold and dark here and he didn’t like it. The man made it better though, the others always did.

“I just wished I had managed to save you,” the man said, tears now running down his face. “I was right there. I could have done something. Stopped you from running off like the reckless idiot you are- _ were _ .”

The man took in a couple shaky breaths. “The others are gonna visit you real soon, okay? We just like to be here without the crowds and without each other. Mostly so we don’t all have a crying fit together. It makes this so much worse. But we’re not gonna stop, buddy. We’re not gonna leave you here alone.”

The man stood up. “I hope you’re happy where you are.”

Then he turned and left.

Something inside him snapped at that. It was getting colder again, and there was no way he could make him stay. His lips cracked open and he tried to scream for him to stay, but nothing escaped him. He trembled violently as the man grew smaller in the distance. He wasn’t going to turn around again. He wasn’t going to come back to him and warm him up and comfort him.

The man wasn’t going to come back. His limbs trembled with the effort he put into making them move, but they were stuck to the frozen ground. He would have crumpled to the ground if he could have, despair overwhelming him.

And so he stayed. Like he always would.

\---

It wasn't long before the next one came. At least by his standards. Time grew so long here.

He was running, unlike the other boy, and was dressed in all blue. The only real similarity was that he was also holding flowers.

It didn't take the boy much time to reach him. He skidded to a stop just before his feet would have hit his hands, and removed the blue hood, revealing a pale face with freckles splashed all over it, and ginger-brown hair scattered in a curly mess around his head. The boy was grinning slightly, but underneath it he could feel the sorrow that he fed on. It was evident in the strained way he smiled, the way he held his flowers in a white-knuckled grip.

"Sorry I'm late," he said. "Had to deal with some criminals who thought breaking into a museum was a good idea. I kicked their asses, of course, but it took some time. Got you some zinnias from the flower lady, thought they might liven the place up a little bit. I think she's getting a bit tired of us visiting every year and demanding flowers. I know that it's not exactly conventional, but-"

And on and on. By now he had learned how to tune the boy out, past experience telling him the boy would continue talking until he got tired of it. 

This one was annoying. But he still liked it when he came to visit. Not being alone always made him feel better. 

He missed him when the boy stopped talking, turned around to leave, and waved at him. 

\---

He knew who his next visitor would be. Ever since the first year, they had all come separately. Spread out. Four in a row.

The next one was the strange one, he realized as he saw a dot approaching on the horizon. The strange silver one.

He walked at a slower pace then the rest of them combined, eyes on the ground. He was wearing a similar outfit to what the previous visitor had been wearing, just in the far less eye catching shade of white. He wore a neutral expression, neither happy or sad. In his left hand, cradled close to his chest, were black flowers. He couldn't quite make out what species they were.

As soon as he reached the grave, it was possible to make out the finer features of his face. The strange silver and metal skin, the bright blue eyes, the lines in the metal that imitated a face, the strange  _ whirring _ noises whenever he moved. He was very odd.

With a soft sigh, he grabbed the two bouquets that were on the ground, petals already scattered around them. He arranged the first bouquet and the second so that they faced the same direction, the flowers just barely touching. Then he grabbed individual flowers from the group he was carrying, and placed them on the ground in a neat, symmetrical pattern. When he was done, he sat down on the ground like the others had.

Unlike the others, he was silent. For quite some time, the only noise he heard was the soft sound of mechanical breathing.

Like all of the others, though, he apparently couldn't help himself.

"I always wondered how it felt when I died," the man-robot-thing said. "I know our situations were hardly comparable. I was gone for five months. You have been dead for five years. And you're not coming back."

There was another long silence. 

"For the first year or so, we all had hope. Of course we did. Every time one of us has died, we always came back. Always."

The man sighed, the odd robotic noises sounding far more emotional than they should. "But not you."

He placed his head in his hands, letting out a soft, weary noise. “Not you.”

He left after that, apparently too overwhelmed to stay.

He hated watching the man leave.

\---

He knew who the last one would be even before he saw her. The girl. The one he had the strongest connection to.

This time she wasn’t wearing anything fancy. Just jeans, a t-shirt, and a jacket. Unlike the others, she didn’t carry any flowers.

She was more familiar than the others. Something about her face-the light brown skin, the dark hair, the blue eyes which reminded him so much of  _ something _ , the quiet sadness in her expression-it all reminded him of something. Something he couldn’t quite remember.

It made him sad, that he couldn’t remember. He wanted to. Maybe he would have something to occupy him when they left, instead of just the freezing cold.

But it almost hurt to try. It made something in his head ache so bad that it was agony, the pain and his helplessness

Her voice was so quiet when she spoke that he had to strain his ears to hear what she was saying.

“I’m gonna try to get him to come this year,” she said, eyes fixed on the ground. “Not sure if it will work, though. He’s always been adverse to anything to do with… this.”

She turned her eyes up to the sky, both of them shining with tears. “I get why. For the longest time, I blamed myself too. I guess it was better because I wasn’t there. I beat myself up for that, but at least I wasn’t there. He was. He always wanted to protect you-well he wanted to protect all of us-but especially you. You two were always close.”

She was quiet after that for quite a while, her dark blue eyes fixed on some point on the horizon. The silence was deafening between the two of them, one unable to speak and the other either unwilling or unable. He wished he knew what was going on inside her head, even if he knew that it would only make him sad.

It hurt when she left, more so than any of the others. He tried, harder than ever, to follow.

But he couldn’t. So he felt the connection slowly fade away, any warmth she had given him extinguished by the freezing cold.

\---

He hadn’t been expecting anyone after her. There were always only four of them.

So when he saw a fifth on the horizon, he was surprised.

The boy that was walking towards him was distinctive, even from a distance. He had platinum blonde hair stuffed awkwardly underneath a green hood. He was walking fast, in a very nervous manner, hopping from one foot to the next. Almost as if he didn’t want to be here.

It didn’t take long for him to arrive. Up close, he was even more distinctive-vivid green eyes on a remarkably pale face, stress lines etched into an otherwise young face. He was younger than the others, but not by much-maybe three years at most.

He was  _ disturbingly _ familiar. More so than the rest of them, even more so than the girl-something inside him  _ ached _ at the sight of the boy, some kind of familiarity calling out to him-

_ Rocks and wood and metal falling on him from above- _

_ Somebody screaming his name, a name he couldn’t remember but knew all the same- _

_ Those same green eyes, wide with pain and fear- _

He jerked, body harshly convulsing at the images that had just flashed through his head. It was the first time he had moved,  _ ever _ , but still he couldn’t get his hands unstuck from the ground or escape this place.

His throat tried to let out a low whine of despair, but silence was all that escaped him. 

The boy didn’t notice. None of them did. Instead of paying attention to him, to his pain, he just sat down, turning those brilliant green eyes toward the ground.

Then he began to speak.

“Sorry for not visiting sooner.” He bit his lip. “I know that’s a bit of an understatement. Five years is a hell of a long time to wait. And it still took Nya screaming at me to get me to visit.”

He blinked at that.  _ Nya? _ The name was familiar to him, the same way the boy was-

_ A little girl standing in front of him, expression clouded with grief and confusion- _

_ The same girl, older, familiar despite the robotic inflection of her voice, face mask and helmet on her, a sense of pride overwhelming him- _

_ A girl with a dark ponytail hugging him tight, tears in her eyes- _

Again, he jerked, harsher this time, one hand almost coming unstuck from the ground. It  _ hurt _ , it hurt so much that he sobbed in silent pain, but he was glad for it. If he could keep this up, one painful jerk at a time-

Maybe he could leave. He was suddenly very grateful for the boy’s presence. 

The boy, oblivious to him, had kept on speaking. “-and this just sucks, this sucks so much, because I had so much hope that you would come back, because everyone did. Even my dad, no matter how messed up that was.”   
  
There was another silence, one which he now loathed. He could feel the connection fading, the will to move going quiet the longer the boy remained silence. But then-

“I really do miss you,” the boy said, voice incredibly soft and heavy with grief. “Even after all this time, I still do. Everyone-Nya, Jay, Cole, Zane, Sensei, even my damn  _ mom _ -”

He lost the boy’s voice again, mind flooded by images.  _ A dark haired boy holding the earth in the air with his bare hands, a freckled boy with electricity sparking at his fingertips, snowflakes forming in the air behind a silver-skinned boy, all while a warm voice instructed them- _

This time, his jerk was harsh enough to rip one of his hands from the ground and bring tears to his eyes, the pain unbearable but the joy of finally not being stuck to the frozen ground almost uncontainable now. He felt like he was  _ vibrating _ , every part of him alight with the urge to finally get out of here. 

He was so invigorated, in fact, that he almost missed what the boy said next.

“I wish it had been me,” the boy said, voice so choked with emotion now that it was almost impossible to understand. “It  _ should _ have been me. I was right  _ there _ , I could have helped you, but I didn’t-”

He broke off there, apparently too overwhelmed to continue, and buried his face in his hands, curling up into a tight ball. After a couple of seconds he began to sob, soft, choked noises interrupting his gasps for air.

He felt  _ scared _ by what the boy had said. Completely horrified. Some part of him  _ screamed _ at the rest of him that what the boy had said was wrong, that it was bad, that Lloyd shouldn’t-

Lloyd?

Who was  _ Lloyd? _

He shook his head, trying to block out all the confusing thoughts that made his head hurt, but not really able to.  _ A boy with a small bowl cut looking at him with a mix of frustration and anger, a volcano, a bright green light, himself ruffling blond hair under his hand- _   
  


He yanked himself off of the ground, and, for the first time, stood up.

For a couple of seconds, he was unable to believe what he had just done. For so  _ long _ he had been here, unmoving, still, a statue-

And now he was out. Now he was  _ free _ . The cold was still here, the silence, his invisibility, but not he didn’t have to  _ stay _ .

With a start, he noticed the boy was staring directly at him. Green eyes were wide, still glimmering with tears, but now no longer crying.

There was silence between the two of them. For a moment he considered speaking, but the instant he opened his mouth the frozen cold entered his lungs, so he remained silent.

The boy glanced away. “Must have just been the wind.”

It took a while, but the boy slowly staggered to his feet. He still looked upset, tear tracks still obvious on his face and lips bitten raw, but something about him was… content. He couldn’t explain it, but the boy was at peace.

He was happy for him. He didn’t know why, but he was.

“Thanks,” the boy said, wiping at his eyes. “Thanks so much, Kai.”

When the boy turned to leave, this time he followed.

**Author's Note:**

> So that’s the first chapter. The basic summary is this: unknown narrator stuck in an unknown and horrible place (a cemetery in the real world) is visited by four people in this order: Cole, Jay, Zane, Nya. Lloyd visits him as well, but the narrator was not expecting him. Thanks to Lloyd speaking to “him”, he is able to regain some of his memories and escape from the dark place by following Lloyd. End chapter.
> 
> This took me… waaaaaayyyy too long to write in retrospect, but I’m glad it’s done so I can focus on the upcoming ninjago angst week. This story probably won’t have another chapter posted until angst week is over, but who knows. Maybe I’ll get off my lazy ass for once.


End file.
